


Better Than Waffles

by mrs_d



Series: Songs for the Morning [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), M/M, Morning After, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: “I trust you,” Sam said softly, watching as Steve’s long, pretty eyelashes fluttered down and back up. “We’ll take it slow. You’re not gonna hurt me.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt from anonymous on Tumblr. Unbeta'd — let me know if there's a grammar thing.
> 
> Set the morning after [ Largely Unspoken](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7629601), but can be read as a stand-alone.

Sam woke up hot and naked, with the clammy feeling around his temples that told him he’d been sweating. No surprises there — it was summer, after all, and given the bright bars of sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, he’d slept long enough that the heat of the day had crept in. He had to close the windows and turn on the air conditioning; normally he’d get up before the sun to do that — why had he slept so late?

Steve shifted behind him, and Sam’s memory of the night before came back in a warm rush: _Steve was here_. He’d come home in the middle of the night, and they’d... well. No wonder Sam had slept in.

He felt Steve roll over. The single sheet that covered them moved with him, the slightly scratchy cotton dragging over Sam’s chest until its corner was against Sam’s nose. Sam arched back to pull it away, and found Steve’s lips at his neck. Which was when Sam realized he’d been reeled in perfectly, moved right where Steve wanted him. The guy wasn’t subtle; his morning wood was solid against Sam’s ass.

“Morning,” Steve said, and Sam heard the little smirk in his voice.

“Hi,” Sam replied. “I forgot you were back for a second there.”

“Like anything could keep me away,” Steve exhaled.

The words sent a chill through Sam despite the heat of the room and the body against his, separated only by the thin sheet. Steve’s hips were moving absently, his erection rubbing against Sam in tiny increments, like he just couldn’t help it. Sam leaned back a little more purposefully, grinning when he heard Steve’s breath catch in his throat.

“You’re insatiable, Rogers,” he commented.

“Little bit,” Steve replied, kissing Sam’s neck. “Hope that’s all right.”

Sam heard himself make a small noise when Steve’s tongue darted up unexpectedly to toy with his earlobe. He twitched when Steve’s hand landed on his ass and kneaded in time with the motion of his hips, and Sam’s cock was finally waking up — going from the blurry, wanna-get-off feeling of a morning hard-on to fully aroused and onboard with Steve’s plans for a delayed round two.

“Fine by me,” Sam managed. “I do what you do.”

“Just slower,” Steve agreed.

He pulled the sheet away — now there was nothing between them, just the sweaty press of skin — and snaked his hand forward, rounding the curve of Sam’s ass until it found the base of his cock, giving it a friendly squeeze. Sam thrust forward into the touch, suddenly needy, and Steve — perfect, beautiful Steve — ran his thumb over the crown, catching and spreading the slippery drop of pre-come that had gathered at the slit.

“Hey,” Sam said, struck with an idea.

Steve didn’t respond. He kept writhing behind him, his hands moving restlessly over every inch of Sam’s body he could reach. Sam let his eyes fall closed and got lost in the sensation for a long moment before he tried again.

“Here,” he said, shifting away enough that he could roll over. Steve’s cheeks were flushed from the heat of the room and the heat between them, his lips almost too pink and pouty to resist, but Sam forced himself to focus, to remember what his endgame was here.

“I was just thinking how much I’d like to suck you off,” he told Steve, getting a little thrill at watching Steve’s pupils expand, leaving only a thin ring of bright blue around a well of black. “And you know I love your mouth on me, too. Damn, baby,” he added accidentally, when Steve started licking his lips. “I think about it all the time.”

Steve nodded, waiting for Sam to go on. His hand, Sam realized belatedly, was still on Sam’s cock, not stroking or squeezing, just holding on because he wanted to, and he could, because he had the right to. Sam loved that — Steve’s quiet confidence when it came to sex — and he didn’t want to ruin it, but at the same time, he knew what he wanted.

“So, maybe we could try 69 again,” he said in one breath. He shrugged while he said it, like it was casual, like it wasn’t something he’d been trying to bring up for months.

Steve’s mouth flickered down, a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “I want to,” he began, “but, with what happened last time, Sam, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

Sam understood Steve’s hesitation. The last time, and the only time, they’d tried that position, he’d gotten a little overenthusiastic, and Sam had choked a little more than was comfortable; he’d had to give Steve a sharp smack on the leg to tell him something was wrong. By then Sam’s eyes were watering, and there was bile at the back of his throat — all in all, it wasn’t pleasant. But it was a fluke — it’d been a long time since Sam had done that with a man, and he’d miscalculated. He knew better now, and he wanted to try again.

The problem was that the incident had scared Steve. It took Sam weeks after that to remind Steve that they could be a little rough, that he wasn’t made of glass. Steve still wrestled with that out in the field — treating everyone who wasn’t him as if they were so damned fragile — so Sam could see where he was coming from, but...

“I trust you,” he said softly, watching as Steve’s long, pretty eyelashes fluttered down and back up. “We’ll do it a little different this time, we’ll take it slow. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Steve hesitated another moment, and then he nodded and moved back, letting Sam go completely. “Where do you want me?”

“You just stay right there,” Sam replied. “On your side.”

He ducked in, gave Steve a quick, close-mouthed kiss before he peeled himself off the mattress. His back was damp with sweat where Steve had pressed against him, and he could feel it beading on his forehead. He really should have turned the AC on already —  this old house was going to be sweltering before too long — but any interruption now would spook Steve out of this, and it’d be another month at least before Sam could ask again. As it was, he could see the tension in Steve’s thighs, in the way he was holding his hands stiffly like he was bracing for impact.

Sam settled on his side and raised his head to catch Steve’s eye. “Good?”

“You’re not climbing up?” Steve asked.

“Nope, I’m staying right here,” Sam assured him.

“But you’re so far away,” Steve complained.

Sam chuckled and brought his head back down. He licked a stripe along Steve’s somewhat wilted cock. Steve hissed in a breath, and when he exhaled, Sam could feel it between his legs.

“Good?” he asked again, his lips barely moving against Steve’s skin.

“Uh huh,” said Steve. His voice came out a little strangled, so Sam licked and kissed some more, suckling at the tip until Steve was fully hard again.

“Aw, yeah, you’re good, baby,” Sam murmured, when Steve started copying his technique.

It was a challenge, keeping his voice so gentle and encouraging when his own dick was hard enough to hammer nails. But he took a breath, reminded himself how much he wanted this, not just because Steve was a champion at cock sucking — but because, if Sam let him decide, Steve would always put himself last. Sam wanted Steve to feel what he felt, to fall to pieces as he took Sam apart, to be so distracted by his own pleasure he forgot that he was pleasuring Sam. And, even though the result hadn’t been great when they tried this before, Sam had to say that it had worked; Steve had forgotten to put himself aside, which was exactly what Sam wanted. It could happen again, Sam knew it — he just had to be a little more careful.

“So good,” he added softly, just before he took Steve as deep as he could at this angle.

Steve tensed up again, so Sam reached over, took Steve’s fist and coaxed it open, brought his hand to rest on his hip, where it resumed its wandering — a pleasant distraction. He closed his eyes and sucked, one long, tight pull.

“Jesus,” Steve whispered, his wet lips sliding around the head of Sam’s cock.

Sam brought one hand up to the base of Steve’s dick and stroked, keeping his grip loose and relaxed, skating over the velvety skin. He opened his eyes again to watch Steve’s stomach muscles clench and relax, clench and—

“Oh, God,” Sam tried to say a second later, when his cock was suddenly enveloped in warmth and wetness — but his mouth was full, of course, so it came out as a groan that Steve echoed, that Sam could feel around his dick.  

Steve took him deeper, dragging his lips up, his tongue flicking lazily over the tip before he went back down again in a graceful, familiar rhythm. Sam’s mouth went slack — he was probably drooling on the bedspread— fucking _fuck_ , Steve was good at this, Sam never wanted anything else in the whole damn world. His body was humming, everything below his naval molten and oozing with want. He had to get back to Steve’s cock and distract him before it was too late. He had to win this race— or least tie.

He tightened his grip despite the uncomfortable angle and rocked forward, closing his lips around the shaft of Steve’s dick and moving until he kissed his fist. Steve’s perfect suction faltered — Sam felt a little smug as he pulled back and hauled in a ragged breath. Sam redoubled his efforts, bringing out every trick he knew to make Steve lose it. He licked up hard over the slit, tasting the tang of pre-come, and Steve twitched, his hips hitching forward just a fraction of an inch — that was good, that was a good sign, just a little more—

Steve’s mouth was back, sloppy and uncoordinated, perfectly messy— the knowledge that Sam was responsible, Sam was doing this to him, it was so fucking hot he couldn’t take it, he made a muffled sound around Steve’s dick, and Steve came salty and bright across his tongue. Sam pulled back and stroked Steve hard and fast, his come hitting his chin, his cheek, his throat, in hot, thick streams.

The sight of it, the feeling, plus the noises Steve was still making around his cock as he came down— Sam squeezed his eyes shut and let go, let the pleasure roll through him in crashing waves, shaking him to his very core.

He rolled onto his back when it had passed, his breathing harsh like he’d been running, chasing after Steve — which, he realized with a dopey little laugh, he kind of had been.

“What’s so funny?” Steve slurred from the other end of the bed.

“Nothing,” Sam replied, still chuckling. He lay there another minute without moving, letting the world even out a little, before he rolled over and wiped the come off his face on the bed sheets.

“Gross,” Steve commented idly.

“We’ll wash them today,” Sam said, sitting up. He felt very sticky and sweaty now — he needed a shower and air conditioning in the worst way — but he also felt like he couldn’t move.

“Get over here,” Steve said, and Sam smiled helplessly as he flopped back down beside him, snuggling up close despite the heat.

“You are amazing,” Steve went on, after a long and sleepy silence. “This is by far the best way to wake up in the morning.”

“We’re not really waking up, though,” Sam pointed out, and Steve smiled without opening his eyes.

“Next time we will,” he said. “Next time...”

Sam listened to Steve’s breathing change as he fell asleep, watched the worry lines fade completely from his face. He hadn’t finished his sentence, but, really, he didn’t have to.

After all, there’d always be a next time.


End file.
